


The Precipice

by Hallemcready



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles Cooperative, Conventions, Drinking, First Kiss, Fluff, JMDV feels, Language, M/M, Polyamory, Schmoop, cockles Valentine's Day Fic challenge, their wives ship it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallemcready/pseuds/Hallemcready
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything, it's something as small as broken heat in a hotel room that forces them to acknowledge what's always been between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Precipice

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to our first Fic challenge as part of the Cockles Cooperative. It was meant to be longer but real life is pretty inconsiderate of fic writing right? Hopefully this is up to the standards my fellow writers have set with their incredible work. 
> 
> Thank you :)

Jensen looks at the man sharing the elevator with him. His eyes roam over the length of Misha’s body. Absorbing the lean lines of his torso, his broad shoulders, those cut hips, beautifully shaped and capable hands...Jensen shivers as he allows his mind to wander.

When he’s with Misha, Jensen has a habit of just letting things happen. He doesn’t examine his actions and thoughts like he does in the rest of his life, Misha allows him to just be. It’s one his favorite things about Misha, how he naturally nurtures and facilitates Jensen’s own self worth and freedom.

Maybe that’s how he’s allowed their friendship (a completely inadequate word if you ask him) to get to this point. Jensen even had a ring custom made for Misha’s 40th birthday. Though he doesn't always wear it, Jensen knows he loves that ring. Misha has a habit of losing rings, so if it's not on his finger, he usually keeps it in his wallet.

Jensen glances at the display on the interior of the elevator, seeing that at least ten floors remain before they reach their destination, he allows himself to continue reveling in this cherished memory.

They had been in Misha’s house when Jensen had given him his gift. Their wives and children were outside, leaving Jensen and Misha alone in the kitchen. They had given up all pretense of getting refreshments for the others. They had gotten distracted talking and it just felt like the right time to give Misha the package he had been fingering in his pocket all afternoon. Jensen had pulled the modest looking hand carved box out of his pocket, it was still warm from his own hand, and slid it across the counter to his best friend. Misha picked it up with his slender fingers, turning it over in his palm, he rubbed --no caressed the impressions in the wood. After a moment of contemplation on Misha’s part, and agonizing impatience on Jensen's, Misha looked up at his friend and spoke.

“What’s this J?”

“Happy 40th man. I uh -I hope it’s not too much. It just seemed like you.”

Misha smiled in that radiant way of his as he looked down and opened his gift. He paused when he saw the beaten metal ring.

“I had it made. It’s tungsten. I wanted it to have a roughened look instead of polished. It just -uh. Fuck man. I dunno. I can take it back if you-”

Misha covered Jensen’s mouth with his hand, effectively silencing him.

“Shut up idiot. It’s perfect. Thank you.” He removed his hand and slipped the ring on just above his wedding band. “See? Like I said, perfect.”

There was just enough teasing in his tone, as he wiggled his fingers in Jensen’s face, that it allowed his friend to smile at the significance of Misha’s choice in ring placement. There was no discomfort at all the things they weren’t saying to each other during this moment.

Jensen found himself staring down at the ring (he's wearing it this evening) where Misha had his fingers slotted through the belt loops on his pants. It made his jeans pull low, revealing those fucking lickable hip bones. Yes, he noticed things like that about Misha. No other men inspired those types of thoughts (at not since he met Misha), just this incredible, kind, generous, sexy as fuck man he was lucky enough to have for a best friend.

“What are you smiling at J?” Misha asked amused, breaking him out of his reverie.

Jensen looked up at his friend and realized they were near their floor in the hotel. This con had been like most others. It was late Sunday night and they were all done for the weekend. Jared had taken a red eye out as soon as they were done, he wanted to see his family before heading back to filming tomorrow night. Jensen had decided to stay the night and hang out with Misha, maybe take a flight out the next day together as they weren’t expected on set for another day. Danneel and JJ were visiting her family anyway, so it had all worked out well.

“Nothing Mish, just thinking.” Misha quirked an eyebrow at his friend, but before he could respond, the elevator dinged their arrival on their floor. The actor's rooms were adjacent to each other on one of the top floors. They stepped out together, their arms casually brushing as they walked down the hall.

“Hey, you wanna come over to my room, we can have a few drinks and relax?”

“Sounds good. Just let me grab my phone charger out of my room --and I want to change clothes.”

“Cool.”

Stopping in front of Misha’s hotel room, he watched the other man slide the electronic key card into the slot. The light turned green but Misha tried to turn the handle too early and it wouldn’t go. Eventually he managed it, though it took three tries and some grumbling for Misha to get the door open, and all the while Jensen used his hand to cover his smirk.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word man.” Jensen replied smiling to himself.

“I can hear you thinking.” Misha mumbled turning away, but not in time before Jensen saw his own smirk.

They stepped into the room and it felt like someone had opened an oven door in their faces.

“Jesus fucking christ, it’s like a sauna in here.” Misha made his way over to the thermostat, pushing buttons and turning dials, but all that happened was more hot air hissed it’s way out of the vents.

“Mish, just grab your stuff, you can stay in my room. It’s not like they’d be able to get anyone up here to fix it tonight anyway.”

“Yeah, alright. Thanks J.”

Misha gathered up his bags, grabbing his phone charger and a few other things. They made their way into Jensen’s identical but thankfully cooler room next door.

“Thanks again man. I can sleep on the floor, I don’t want to put you out.”

Jensen scoffed at Misha before answering.

“We can share the bed dude, it’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s like an extra large California king, I think we’ll both fit.”

Misha eyed him for a moment before nodding.

“So you mentioned drinks?” Misha asked as he kicked off his shoes, throwing his stuff down haphazardly.

“Yeah, I’ve got some good whiskey in my bag.” Jensen responded as he looked up in time to see Misha pulling his shirt over his head. Now he’s seen Misha sans clothes many times but they’re usually not alone...in a hotel room...just a few feet from a bed they'll be sharing later.

The situation felt suddenly more intimate and Jensen’s body was humming with excited energy.

Jensen lets his eyes rake over the tan svelte lines of Misha’s body. While it’s true that Misha was slightly smaller than himself, he was also much more toned. His running, swimming and yoga made Misha far more fit than most men half his age. And god damn was he getting more attractive every year.

Jensen had given up all pretense when it came to his internal monologue, he could fully admit to himself that he was attracted to Misha. He entertained thoughts of them together, even realistic ideas about how it all might go down. He knew Misha and Vicki were polyamorous. Even Dani had made comments about how hot they’d be together. He thought she had just been teasing until she said something to that effect at dinner with Misha and Vicki. Misha had blushed while Vicki and Dani talked about their fantasies of their husbands together. Apparently it was something they'd both given a great deal of thought. Misha and Jensen had both laughed, blushed and drank their way through the conversation --though it hadn’t been awkward. Surprisingly enough, it had been fun and had made Jensen feel lighter than he had in a long time. After that night, he and Misha had found themselves crossing previously established boundaries. They touched more, they were more open with each other, more affectionate. Jensen reveled in it. It felt as if they were perched together at the edge of a great precipice, and they were both just waiting for that last breeze to push them over, to see what comes next.

Maybe it was the natural progression of whatever this was, or the mood between them tonight, but Jensen didn’t even pretend to give Misha privacy as pulled his jeans down as well. Maybe it was because Misha had chosen to take his clothes off in front of Jensen instead of going to the bathroom, but Jensen knew Misha wouldn’t mind his gaze. He watched Misha as he looked through his duffel bag for something more comfortable to wear, in nothing but his boxer-briefs. They were dark blue and left nothing to the imagination. Jensen forced himself to go back to his own task of retrieving the alcohol from his bag as he realized that ogling his friend’s godlike ass and thighs had made him hard in his own jeans.

By the time Jensen has found the liquor he brought, and a couple of plastic cups, Misha was is in these snug black yoga pants and white tank. He’s lounging back on Jensen’s bed, propped up with pillows against the headboard, remote dangling from his hand as he looked for something on the tv.

Jensen pulled his own shirt over his head, aware of the eyes on his body, he couldn’t find it in himself to be ashamed as he made his movements just that much slower, just a touch more… erotic. When he stripped his own pants off, his back to his friend, he made a point to bend at the waist and give his friend the opportunity to ogle his own plump ass. Now Jensen is most definitely not egotistical, but he is confidant in all those hours as the gym. He knows Misha has chosen to watch his little show when he hears the man take a sudden steadying breath and shuffle unnecessarily on the bed.

Jensen can’t help the surge of pride he feels, and it’s what pushes him to stay clothed in only his own snug boxer briefs, as he climbs up to the head of the bed and makes himself comfortable within Misha’s personal space. They aren’t touching, but Jensen shivers from the body heat he can feel radiating from Misha.

“If you’re cold then maybe you should put some clothes on J.” Jensen takes a breath, afraid he’s pushed this thing just a little too far. “Or not, I can keep you warm.” Misha finishes with a lewd smirk and wink and suddenly the tension is broken and the men are laughing.

Both men are now comfortable, lying with their arms pressed together, drinking expensive liquor out of their cheap cups, when Misha speaks, “Happy Valentine’s Day J.”

Jensen turns to look at Mish, taking in the sincere look on his face, he smiles and holds his cup out to Misha, “Happy Valentine’s Day Mish,” they clink their glasses together though it only makes a soft snick, the sound of plastic on plastic, then Jensen continues, “you know it’s been a while since I thought about this holiday, I honestly forgot about it being today.” Being married with a kid makes it hard to remember, or care honestly, about these Hallmark holidays. Him and Dani make it romantic whenever they're lucky enough to have time alone together, they don't need a holiday.

Misha smiles at him, that gummy smile that lights up his whole face, “yeah, Vicki and I aren’t really up for the consumerism of it all, we tend to make our grand romantic gestures at random times, in ways that you definitely won’t see on any hallmark card.” Misha winks at Jensen and they both laugh.

Jensen has some idea of what they get up to, and while it’s not necessarily something he would be comfortable doing, he admires Misha. Jensen wishes he could be more like him, creative and original in everything he does. _Beautiful_.

Jensen’s mind keeps repeating that word. _Beautiful. Beautiful. Misha is so fucking beautiful._ Jensen can feel the liquor warm in his belly and thinks that maybe he should have eaten something first, because he’s already feeling a little drunk, and when Jensen’s drunk his brain-to-mouth filter falls off completely.

“You alright J? You kind of spaced out there for a minute.” Jensen blinks, his eyes refocusing on Misha. On Misha’s face. Misha's face is so much closer now than it was a minute ago. Misha’s hand is on Jensen’s face, his thumb stroking the stubbled skin of Jensen's cheek. Jensen finds he can’t think of anything he’d rather do in that moment than let his eyes fall shut and nuzzle into the touch.

Misha doesn’t need a lot of encouragement to continue, so he lets his hand cup his friend’s face, his thumb stroking further and further down until he draws it across Jensen’s lower lip. The man gasps at the contact and licks his lip in reaction, the tip of his tongue just barely catching Misha’s thumb.

They both freeze. While they’ve both certainly experienced far more lewd touches than that, somehow that small contact amplified the sexual tension tenfold, bringing it out from the pleasant buzz it usually is in the background of all their interactions, but now so intense it’s almost crippling.

Misha starts to pull his hand back but Jensen grabs him by the wrist and opens his eyes. They communicate so much through eye contact. It’s like they have this language all their own, and it was always there, this _connection_ , this way of expressing themselves, that only they understand. They look at each other that way now, both seeing the roiling emotions in the other’s eyes. There’s apprehension there, of course, and caution, but also desire, need, devotion, and… love. There’s a lot of love between them. Of course this is how they would figure it out, leave it to them to get drunk and then _have a conversation with their eyes_ be the way they confront what this is between them. Jensen knows underneath everything else that he will laugh about this later. But not right now.

Using the grip on Misha’s wrist he pulls the man’s hand back to his face, his thumb resting again against his mouth. Misha presses down the middle of Jensen's lower lip, pulling the plump flesh down to open Jensen’s mouth.

Jensen doesn't think, he just licks Misha's thumb. Misha, needing no further encouragement after that, pushes it into his mouth. Jensen’s eyes fall shut again as he savors the flavor of Misha, stroking the digit with his tongue, feeling the whorl of his friend's fingerprints against his tastebuds, hollowing his cheeks and sucking. They’re both imagining it’s Misha’s cock in Jensen’s mouth now, so of course they both go from semi hard to achingly so.

After a moment Misha pulls Jensen’s face to his own, quickly removing his thumb from Jensen’s mouth. Jensen honest to god whines, but the sound is swallowed by Misha’s mouth. Misha hungrily kisses the man he’s been in love with for longer than he cares to remember for the first time.

As first kisses go, it’s intense, devouring. Jensen can feel all the things Misha wants to say in this kiss. It’s overwhelming and he feels tears prickle at his eyes. He throws all of that emotion into his response. Kissing Misha with all of the longing and admiration and pining he’s felt for so long that he can’t remember a time when this man was not a part of him.

They break apart to breath but only just, settling their foreheads together, and sharing breath as they regain themselves somewhat.

“That’s not how imagined we would do that the first time.” Misha’s sounds deeper, very Cas-like.

Jensen laughs, bringing his hand to the back Misha’s head, and stroking the nape of his neck. “What did you imagine Mish?”

“I honestly thought it would be our wives conspiring that would lead to this.”

They both laugh, because that is most definitely something their wives would do.

“How disappointed do you think they're gonna be when they find out we finally crossed that line and they weren’t here to see it?” Jensen’s teasing but he means it, he really thinks they’ll be bummed to find out they missed it.

“Should we take a picture? Send it to them?” Misha’s already reaching for his phone on the dresser.

“They would love that. Here, lie back with me, and...uh, take your shirt off.” Misha quirks his eyebrow at that last part. “Oh come on Mish, it’s Valentine’s Day, least we can do is give them something to hold them over until we can all get together, right?”

Misha nods at his reasoning as removes the garment, Jensen has a point, the ladies would love it.

They settle themselves down in the bed, comfortable, limbs tangled together, bare chests pressed together as they languidly make out like teenagers. Eventually they break apart long enough for Misha to hold the phone above them and take a few very candid photos of them.

Jensen loves the pictures. They look flushed, lips red and plump, their activities would be obvious to anyone who saw these, but mostly he loves how happy they look. Their eyes are shining and their smiles are the kind you see on newlyweds in Paris or some shit, he thinks. Jensen looks over at Misha then and imagines that scenario. He imagines the next time they’re in Rome. He honestly can’t wait to do so many things with this man.

He has no idea why it took so long but he’s so glad they finally jumped off of the precipice together.

A few minutes after Misha sends the pictures to their wives in a group text, both of their phones start beeping with new notifications.

**Vicki: it’s about fucking time. Call me tomorrow and tell me everything. Also, we’ll need to plan a night alone for the four of us asap. Love you**

**Danneel: woohoo!!! You two finally did it! Feel free to send more pics ;) talk to you tomorrow xoxo**

**Danneel: P.S. Happy Valentine’s Day you two <3**

Misha and Jensen can’t help their dopey smiles at reading their wives reactions. Eventually they both put their phones down and snuggle back up together.

“Is it okay if we go to sleep? I always imagined ravishing you our first time together, but this is nice too and I’m fucking exhausted. Besides, I've already got some ideas for morning sex.” Misha yawns as soon as he finishes speaking.

Jensen honestly can’t find it in himself to argue, and the prospect of morning sex definitely sounds appealing, so he simply reaches above them to turn off the lamp, then after resettling himself against Misha, he pulls the comforter over them.

Laying in the dark, pressed against this man who means more to him than he can even begin to understand, Jensen feels at peace. He feels warm, content, and like home. Being with Misha is being home.

Jensen hears Misha’s breath start to even out so he whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day Mish.”

Misha whispers back sleepily, “ 's perfect J.”

If Jensen falls asleep with a smile and his eyes a little watery, well… it’s dark and no one will see.

 

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? They make me so sappy, it's ridiculous.


End file.
